


love is best the fifth time around

by NoGood_InGoodbye



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 05:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12426183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoGood_InGoodbye/pseuds/NoGood_InGoodbye
Summary: Chloe Beale did not have a type. Chloe Beale was an open,welcomingperson who acceptedeveryone.Or: Pitch Perfect 2 is practically non-existent, Chloe is a lost supersenior, and Beca is still awkward as fuck.





	love is best the fifth time around

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any Pitch Perfect characters.
> 
> The story branches off after Pitch Perfect and completely changes Pitch Perfect 2, doing away with Amy's mess up and the Worlds.
> 
> This is all _unedited_ so please tell me if you spot any typos or what-not! Tell me what you all think! xoxo  
>  (Also, I have a shit ton of Bechloe fics that I'm working on and I don't know what's happening to me these two are controlling (read: ruining) my life)

She hadn’t noticed it at first.

Jazzy had been a nice girl with messy brown hair and warm honey eyes. She was short and pale and smirked in a way that reminded her of steel blue eyes glinting under the lowlight of a laptop screen as aca- _amazing_  music played in the background. She didn’t make her stomach flutter or tighten to knots, her heartbeat didn’t stop and stutter when she was close, she didn’t make her feel like she needed to text her first thing in the morning or be the last person she wanted to hear at night, but she made her smile sometimes and she liked the Beatles and didn’t laugh about her being a supersenior or being the co-captain of an acapella group.

She was nice and she treated her well and that was more than enough for Chloe.

“I get it, it was good, but it wasn’t going to last,” small, pale shoulders shrugged as warm blue eyes searched for any sign of contempt in deep brown.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” full red lips managed a half-smile before shoulders drooped and turned away. “We were good while we lasted, Chloe.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you around,” sleek black heels clicked softly on the hallway’s tiled floors.

“Okay.”

As ocean blue eyes watched messy brown hair disappear around the corner, she could feel the air rush out of her like a wave smashing into shore, knocking down any sand lover and dragging them into sea. But she wasn’t the one drowning. No, the redhead felt like the ocean, vast and wide and  _free_.

She suddenly felt so free.

Jazzy was a nice girl who treated Chloe well—but Chloe didn’t need to be treated  _well_. She needed to be loved.

Chloe hadn’t started properly dating again until after the ICCA finals.

* * *

 

It was Aubrey who had suggested that she get someone more— _permanent_ —in her life. The redhead had deliberately failed her Russian Lit finals and Aubrey had sat her down the day her grades came out and placed a hand on her knee, brows drawn together as she gnawed on her bottom lip to ask her if she was okay.

Chloe was fine. She was more than okay—she was staying with the Bellas.

“You know you can tell me anything, right, Chlo?”

The redhead blinked as she turned to find her best friend staring at her, eyes understanding and patient and slightly expecting. “Yeah, I know.”

“Is it about finding a job? Because I know some schools who are more than willing to hire a literature and education major.”

Chloe shook her head, a small smile tugging the corner of her lips. “No, I’m fine, Bree, thank you for worrying about me.”

The hand on her knee dropped. “Okay, if you’re sure…”

“I am.”

A heavy silence enveloped the two as thoughts rumbled and churned in each head. Aubrey’s confident but out-of-nowhere statement broke the silence. “You could get a boyfriend.”

A curious brow raised in silent question, the blond forging on to explain. “Or a girlfriend, whatever. I know you’re bi. I guess, Chlo, you’re staying for another year and I’ll be away at the Lodge and I just don’t want you to be lonely.”

The redhead couldn’t hide the confusion in her voice, “Okay?”

“You’ve been going through flings since our second year, Chlo, I just think that you’ll need someone stable during this time of your life.”

“You make it sound like we’ll never talk again.”

“No, but I know we’ll both be busy, and I don’t want you to be alone, Chloe. I want you to be happy,” Aubrey reached over to give her hand a small squeeze, “You haven’t exactly been yourself since finals.”

The redhead gulped down the lump in her throat, blue eyes quickly finding interest in the blonde’s grey carpet. “Thanks, Bree. I’ll be fine.”

She paused, looking back up at her best friend with sincerity and more than a hint of sadness. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Chlo.” And there, nestled in the arms of her best friend, Chloe could imagine her heart wasn’t aching as much as it’s been since finals. As much as it’s been since she watched stormy blue eyes choose stupid movie scores and boyishly charming smiles.

* * *

 

Dani was scathingly sarcastic and listened to all styles of rock and never held the door open for her or asked her about her day.

“She’s a  _dick_ , Chloe,” steely blue eyes bore into hers as the co-captains maneuvered around the room to set up the rehearsal space.

Chloe scoffed, capping the whiteboard marker before placing it in its holder. “She’s my  _girlfriend_ , Beca. The least you can do is be a little bit nice to her—or at least not  _insult_ her.”

Beca rolled her eyes as she finished unpacking the props. “I would be if she were the least bit  _nice_ to you. Why are you even dating her, Chlo?”

(Because Aubrey said so. Because she looks good in plaid. Because her eyes are a stormy, drowning blue. Because she has bug tattoos. Because she’s quick-witted. Because she claimed to hate the top 40s with a passion but hummed Justin Bieber under her breath. Because. Because.  _Because_.)

The redhead shrugged. “I like her.”

The brunette rolled her eyes in reply, shaking her head as she made her way to the piano where she’d set up her stuff. The redhead followed after her, taking her usual spot behind the DJ to lay her hands on pale, stiff shoulders and kneed away the knots. Beca leaned in to the touch, bright blue eyes captivated by the way the brunette’s contented humming sounded like a song in the making.

“I just think you can do better,” the brunette spoke softly, eyes glued to the set she was working on mixing.

“Well,” the redhead’s reply was soft, her hands moving surely across pale skin. “If you know anyone like Jesse, but single, then you let me know.”

Neither of them commented on the muscles that tensed under her touch.

* * *

 

She hadn’t really planned on introducing Beca to all her partners—not that she hadn’t told her best friend all about them, but actually introducing them  _face to face_ hadn’t really been on her to-do list.

“Well, she’s a thousand steps up from  _Dani_ ,” contempt dripping off the name as thin pink lips twisted into a scowl.

Chloe frowned slightly, eyes on her shake as she mixed it with her straw. “Just because she’s my ex doesn’t mean you have to be mean.”

“Chlo,  _everyone_ thinks she’s an ass-dick,” Beca snorted, rolling her eyes before taking a gulp from her coffee.

It was the redhead’s turn to roll her eyes—a habit the little DJ was proud of instilling in her. “You’re exaggerating. Anyways, enough about my ex, you were talking about Jazzy.”

The brunette nodded, eyes falling to her coffee cup as she played with the paper sleeve. “She’s fine. Doesn’t have bad taste in music. Treats you well enough. Fine.”

Though the DJ’s eyes were fixated on her cup, Chloe knew the brunette had more to say. Months living in the same house and a year of forcing her way into friendship led to a strong friendship between the two—a  _fast_ friendship, really. The redhead leaned forward to place a hand over Beca’s, smile soft as she asked, “But?”

Two blinks. “Um, but? No, no buts.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she squeezed the brunette’s hand encouragingly. “Come on, Bec, you’re my best friend. You can tell me.”

The DJ tried not to squirm at the feel of her hand on hers but nodded, gulping down the lump in her throat. “Well, she’s nice and a definite step-up from your  _ex_ , but, um, does she make you  _happy_?”

The redhead didn’t mean to sound so defensive. “Of course she does.”

“Yeah, no, I mean, does she make you feel special? Like the fucking Disney princess you actually are? What? You  _are_. I swear, birds are just  _waiting_ for the rehearsal windows to open when you sing.”

“As sweet as that is, Bec, I’m happy with Jazzy. Maybe not Disney-princess-happy but, well, this is reality, Disney can be full of shit sometimes.”

“Oh my fuck, did you just  _diss_ Disney?  _You_. The Bella who owns the special  _and_ extended editions of every Disney princess movie  _ever_?”

“Oh my  _god_ , you’re  _right_. You’re pessimism is contagious, Bec!”

“ _Hey_ , I’m  _realistic_ , not pessimistic!”

“ _Sure_  you are.”

“Don’t judge me, Disney-hater.”

“ _Take that back_!”

The table by the window was full of laughter and giggles—the brunette would deny that to her  _grave_ —and Chloe couldn’t help but wonder if Disney-princess-happy felt a little like this.

* * *

 

Emma was an absolute dork.

She wasn’t the biggest fan of movies but she lived off of Netflix and musicals. It took her a while to get used to the physical part of their relationship but once she was used to it, she melted into her. She liked to sing while she cooked and she always insisted the redhead sing with her—even if she couldn’t carry a tune. She’d snap Chloe funny faces whenever the redhead was stressed and sent stupidly funny puns whenever the supersenior was sad.

Chloe really liked Emma.

“Red!” Amy called from the front door. “Your girlfriend’s here!”

“Hi Em! Give me five minutes!” Chloe poked her head out to the hall to shout before rushing back in to finish her makeup.

“I don’t know why you try so much,” Beca sat on her bed, laptop balanced on her knees and headphones around her neck. “You look gorgeous either way.”

The redhead resisted the urge to grin or roll her eyes as she finished applying her eyeliner. “We’re going to that fancy ass restaurant downtown, Bec. You know they’d kick me out if I wore anything less.”

The brunette muttered under her breath, “Or make a statue of you.”

“What?” Chloe looked up from the purse she was fixing.

“Nothing,” Beca smiled innocently, pulling off her headphones and sliding her laptop to the bed. The brunette bounded towards the supersenior and exaggeratedly gave her a dorky—if not  _charming_ —once over. “You clean up well, Beale. You’ll definitely knock your girl off her feet.”

The redhead couldn’t hide the pink that dusted her cheeks, a delighted little grin lighting up the room. “Thanks. Not too much?”

Beca stepped forward, Chloe’s face flushing deeper and her breath catching at the weight of the brunette’s stare. “Perfect.”

Chloe felt like fire, burning and choking under cold blue eyes. She could hear the blood rushing to her ears and feel the beat  _bang bang banging_ in her chest, in her wrist, pushing up the lump in her throat.

“Red! You dead?”

Air filled her lungs as she took a blind step back, her purse clutched tightly in one hand as she watched  _something_ pass through the brunette’s face.

“Better get going,” Beca turned back to her— _Chloe’s_ —bed. “Enjoy your date.”

“Thanks,” was all she could manage before her feet carried her down the stairs.

When Emma greeted her with an adorably awe-struck grin and a peck on the cheek, she couldn’t help but feel like she could breathe easy again.

(Because brown eyes and goofy grins didn’t feel like choking on ash and smoke.)

* * *

 

It was only two months after Emma that Aubrey had pointed out her— _acquired_ —taste in partners. She was dating Tom by then.

“So, this Tom guy is the fourth brunette you’ve dated.”

“Most people on the planet are brunettes, Bree.”

“Two of them had and have blue—almost grey—eyes.”

“Physical appearance should never be judged.”

“One was sarcastic as hell, one wore too much flannel and leather and smirked—a  _lot_ , the other was dorky in every way possible and didn’t watch movies, and now…”

Ocean blue eyes narrowed at the pause. “Now what?”

“Tom’s nice and polite but has a great ear for music.”

“Okay, what’s with the background check on my boyfriend and exes?”

“Chlo, don’t you see?”

“That you’re going stalker on me?”

“You have a  _type_!”

“A what?”

“A type! You, Chloe Beale, have a  _type_ ,” Aubrey grinned from behind the screen.

Saturday Skype dates have been their thing since Chloe’s first supersenior year and now, about to end her second, she had never felt a stronger urge to end the call than right then. The redhead’s face twisted at the notion of having a  _type_. Chloe Beale did not have a type. Chloe Beale was an open,  _welcoming_  person who accepted  _everyone_.

“Oh  _please_. Don’t give me that face. You  _so_ have a type, although I’ll never understand  _why_ you’re into the hobbit.”

“What?!” she squeaked, leg hitting the coffee table in indignance, hands desperately catching her laptop to keep it steady.

“ _god_ , Chlo, don’t tell me you’re that blind,” she could see the blonde roll her eyes despite the grainy feed. “Everyone you’ve dated so far has  _some_ weird-ass Beca-like quality in them. Although I honestly can’t tell if you’re trying to make the hobbit jealous or just trying to get over her.”

The redhead sputtered, “I’m not—I don’t—What the hell?”

“What? Are you going to tell me that you  _don’t_ think of a short, pale, skinny ass brunette when you’re holding hands with Dani, or Jazzy, or Emma, or Tom?”

Soft pink lips opened to protest but the words died in her throat as her thoughts flitted to long walks around the park and nights overlooking the city, worlds coming together in the small spaces in-between. Her head would turn to find warm brown orbs or tanned skin and it’d take everything in her power to quell down the disappointment that would bubble in her stomach.

She hadn’t noticed it at first.

She hadn’t  _meant_ to find people that reminded her of teasing smirks and cold, pale hands. She hadn’t  _meant_ to hope for cutting blue eyes to look back at her after dates. She hadn’t  _meant_ to think of thin pink lips melting into her own. She hadn’t meant to find partners to fill the Beca-sized hole in her—whatever space the DJ filled.

She hadn’t noticed it.

“You should talk to her,” Aubrey’s calm, soothing voice brought her back.

Chloe could feel her heart start to race. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She didn’t even  _know_.

“Hey, Chlo, calm down, it’ll be okay.”

She managed to nod, even with the lump lodged in her throat and the sting biting her eyes. It was a little overwhelming.

If being so close to Beca felt like burning, then realizing she  _liked_ the girl was— _drowning_.

Falling and heavy and airless. Her hands shook as her lungs tried to find the air she was missing. As if the realization that Beca Mitchell meant more to her was an anchor dragging her down, water filling her lungs, the sun disappearing into cold, cold blue.

She hadn’t noticed it at first, but now it was all she could see.

* * *

 

“Did he bang another chick?” long legs came into the redhead’s view.

“What?” Chloe looked up to see Stacie standing over her, hands on her hips and a brow raised in question.

“Tom,” the tall Bella nodded to the door, where the supersenior had just broken up with the man. “Did he cheat on you?”

The redhead’s brows furrowed. “No?”

Stacie shrugged, plopping down on the couch next to her. “I’ve never seen you dump someone that fast.”

“It just wasn’t working out.”

“Still,” Stacie made herself comfortable, toeing off her heels before turning to face the co-captain, cross legged. “He only lasted, what? Two weeks? Even  _Dani_ lasted longer than him—and she was an ass!”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Chloe muttered, shaking her head before taking up the same position as the brunette. “Aubrey’s making me reevaluate my love life.”

Stacie quirked a brow. “And what does the almighty leader have to say about your love life? Too little sex?”

Chloe wrinkled her nose, shaking her head, “Apparently, I have a  _type_.”

“Oh, you mean your wannabe-Beca band?”

“Does  _everyone_ know?”

“No offense, Red, but you’re kind of obvious.”

“Does—” deep blue eyes focused on shaking hands wringing together. “Does  _she_  know?”

“No idea.”

Chloe shot her a flat stare but Stacie shrugged in apology. “I don’t read minds, Red. If you want to know how she feels about you, just ask her.”

“But I don’t—I mean, I only realized that I might  _like_ like her two days ago.”

“Okay, first of all,  _like_ like? What are you, twelve? Secondly, just because you only realized it now doesn’t mean that it’s always been there. Come on, Red, don’t tell me you haven’t been checking out that ass during rehearsal.”

Despite the nerves that fluttered in her stomach, the redhead couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped her lips. “You should see it bare.”

Stacie whistled lowly, impressed. “As much as I’m sure it’d be a hot ass, I’ll let you take that territory, Red. Getting it with a Bella feels a lot like incest, even if we’re all hot as hell.”

“Thanks, Stacie. I needed that pep talk.”

“No problem, Red. We’re all cheering you on.”

* * *

 

Five months.

Chloe Beale has been officially single for five months and counting. It was a strange sense of melancholy and victory.

As the new school year started and the Bellas prepared for auditions and got ready for their tour, Chloe was incredibly busy and thankful for all the distractions. She didn’t have time to think about being single, or that everyone she loved was graduating, or that she wasn’t sure if she’d find a job, or that the girl she liked was moving to L.A. once the school year ended.

Nope.

No time to think about that  _at all_.

A five-knock song broke her out of her thoughts, the door opening to reveal the very girl that had  _not_ been plaguing her mind all summer.

“Hey Chlo, I’ve got real ramen.”

The redhead couldn’t stop the smile from twisting her lips as she scooted further into her bed to make room for her. Beca grinned in reply, closing the door with her foot as she handed the supersenior her bowl before making herself at home in the recently-vacated-spot on her bed.

“You already working on the initiation and training plan?” the brunette asked once she’d settled, bowl balanced on one knee as she held chopsticks in her left.

“Just storming up ideas for them, but nothing yet,” Chloe smiled before she returned her focus to her food.

It was a strange thing. Realizing things.

The moment she realized that she non-platonically, very much in gay (or bi, for her) liked Beca, everything kind of—shifted. It was like a completely sober, trillion times better version of beer goggles—they were like I-really-fucking-like-you-in-a-gay-romantic-way goggles. Yet even with this realization, nothing really  _changed_ between them.

Beca still lived in her single attic room more than her own shared room with Amy. They still had lunch on Wednesdays and breakfast for dinner on Fridays. Chloe still called every late night shift the brunette took before the redhead would fall asleep to her mixes muffled on her phone. Beca still texted her 'good morning, gorgeous ;*' during her morning runs, even though they probably saw each other less than two hours before. Chloe was still the first person to hear all her mixes. Beca still grumbled every time the redhead insisted they watch a movie—always ending up with the brunette snuggled into Chloe’s side. Chloe still made Beca her morning coffee after her morning runs and Beca would always bring her an evening dessert after her shifts at the radio station. Chloe still kept three of Beca’s hoodies and Beca still had her favorite night shirt.

The world didn’t stop or end after Chloe Beale realized that she had a crush—or more—on her best friend, but then everything felt like a shot of electricity coursing through her veins. As if being next to Beca was all the caffeine she ever needed.

“You okay?” cold blue eyes swam with worry.

She smiled sincerely, “Perfect. I’m perfect. You?”

She watched the brunette play with her noodles, chopsticks rising and falling into the bowl. “Um, well, I applied for an internship today…”

“Really? That’s great, Bec! Where?”

“It’s this recording studio, Residual Heat, and, ah, I’m not even sure if I’ll get i—”

“Of  _course_ you’ll get in, Beca! They’d be idiots not to accept you!”

A soft chuckle escaped the brunette but the redhead could see the relief filling those cold blue eyes. “Thanks, Chlo.”

The supersenior grinned in reply, gently bumping their shoulders together before returning to her food. “So, you gonna remember us small people when you’re big and famous?”

The warm, strong laugh that left the DJ filled the redhead with an indescribable warmth—burning, choking, stealing all air from her lungs. “I’ll never forget you, Chlo.”

* * *

 

“What? Why didn’t Jesse drop her off?”

Blank eyes stared back at blue, the Bellas faces all incredulous.

“What?” the redhead repeated defensively, arms crossing over her chest as the Bellas continued to stare.

The Australian was open about her judgement. “Ginger, where have you  _been_?”

“What?  _What_  am I missing?”

“Red,” Cynthia Rose was the only soul who took pity on her lost expression. “Beca and Jesse broke up before summer break.”

“ _What_?!”

“Haven’t you noticed the lack of Treble invites these past few weeks?” Stacie gave a sympathetic smile to the lost supersenior, the rest of the Bellas nodding at the girl’s statement.

“But—” the redhead’s next words dying in her throat.  _Why didn’t she tell_ me?

The pair had texted and called and Skyped all summer. They’d talked about anything and everything. They hadn’t left out a single thing from each other—at least, that’s what she  _thought_.

“I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with you, Chloe,” Cynthia Rose tried to encourage but the redhead’s thoughts were already running.

“Right,” the supersenior choked, nodding as her feet carried her out the living room. “Tell Jessica to meet us at auditions then. Ashley, you be the one to fetch Beca afterwards.”

The Bellas exchanged uneasy looks as they followed their co-captain to auditions. Thankfully, the redhead had enough in her to keep it together throughout auditions and initiation—although the latter affair was mostly led by Cynthia Rose. As the Bellas led their five new sisters to hood night over at the Trebles, the phone vibrating in her pocket was ignored for cups and bottles and keg stands as she lost herself in the party and alcohol.

By the time the brunette DJ had arrived and found her, Chloe was wasted beyond comprehension and the Bellas were all hovering worriedly close by.

“Come on, Beale, we’re going home,” callous, slender fingers took hold of her elbow as she tumbled out of the crowd and acapella house.

Chloe’s thoughts were a blur as she let Beca practically carry her home. The walk was hazy and spent in silence, the redhead draped over the brunette as they made their way into the Bella house. The walk back helped turn Chloe’s thoughts into less of a muddle, the alcohol still pumping through her veins but ebbing into less of a slur.

Beca unlocked the house and led her to bed, preparing her clothes and leaving her to change to grab her some water and Advil. By some strange miracle, the redhead managed to strip and slip into her night shirt, forgoing the shorts Beca had left for her to crumble into her bed.

She was still on a high buzz, already regretting the future hangover she knew would take over in the morning. She melted into the bed, nuzzling into her pillow as her mind started shutting down.

“Chlo, hey, Chloe, I need you to drink this,” Beca’s gentle touch broke her out of her semi-slumber, the redhead grumbling even after she finished drinking the glass of water she’d been handed.

Before the brunette could slip away, the redhead tiredly took her wrist, tugging it lazily towards her. She slurred, eyes falling closed, “Stay.”

She barely registered the soft sigh from the brunette as her bed shifted and she felt warm, slim arms wrap around her. She snuggled into the girl, mind already falling away as the DJ hummed her to sleep. Her last cohesive thought being that she could live in those arms forever.

* * *

 

“You okay, Chlo?”

The redhead grunted in reply, her hangover finally ebbing away by mid-afternoon. She’d had to skip all her classes in favor of nursing her hangover, thankful she’d made friends in all her courses so she could ask them for what she’d missed. She was already on her fourth cup of coffee for the day, trying to get her energy up for auditions later that afternoon. She was thankful that freshmen had their own dorms as she knew she’d feel extra guilty if any of the newest Bellas saw her.

Still, her brain was focused more on getting herself together than anything else that day.

Beca’s hand over hers felt cold and jolting, helping her thoughts sharpen and pull away from the sluggishness she’s felt all day. “Chlo?”

The redhead grunted, “I’ve been better.”

“Wha—What happened yesterday?”

“I got smashed.”

“Aside from the obvious, nerd.”

“Nothing.”

“Really? Because I came back from my internship to find you wasted beyond next year. You’d ignored  _all_ my calls and texts and hadn’t even texted me about auditions. I had to find out from Ashley what happened.”

The redhead managed a half-hearted shrug, her free hand cupping the warmth from her mug.

“Come on, Chlo. I thought we told each other everything.”

She couldn’t hide the bitterness in her reply, “I thought so too.”

“What?”

The glaze in deep blue eyes was replaced by a hidden fire and drowned in hurt. “You and Jesse? Or does a two-year relationship mean as much as a four-year friendship?”

The sharp intake from the brunette made the redhead pull away, both hands tightening around her mug—for warmth, for support, for  _anything_ away from the cold blue eyes that swirled with  _something_.

“Chloe, I—I  _meant_ to tell you.”

“You had  _all summer_ , Beca.”

“I know.”

The silence weighed heavily around the kitchen, the Bella house eerily quiet for a weekday. Beca’s voice was soft when she continued.

“I know I should have told you. I wanted to tell you, and I’m sorry I didn’t. I just—I didn’t—I—I don’t know what to say.”

And as hurt and betrayed as the redhead felt—she  _understood_. Maybe not every little reason, but she understood.

“Did it hurt?” voice soft, the supersenior’s eyes stayed fixed on her barely touched cup of coffee.

The admission was just as soft, “Like hell.”

“Him or you?”

“…Me.”

“Why?”

“I just… It was time…”

“Do you regret it?”

“…No. I feel—kind of bad, but I think, I mean, I don’t regret it.”

“Good.”

“Do you—Are you angry?”

“I don’t know—kind of? I mean, I’m definitely— _hurt_.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Tentative smiles flitted on to the co-captains faces, the promise of forgiveness and explanations overlapping the heavy atmosphere. Things would be okay.

They’ll be okay.

* * *

 

“She’s your biggest fan,” bright blue eyes glittered with mischief as the redhead bumped the brunette lightly with her shoulder.

“She’s excitable,” the DJ shrugged in reply, watching the last Bellas rehearsal before their auto-show.

Weeks had passed since their post-hood night talk, their friendship slowly mending as they placed priority on their relationship—friendship, whatever. The co-captains had been training and working on their set list for their tour, training the team and placing some focus on the new Bellas. Two of them stood out to the pair, Emily Junk and Alexis Dean, and if the co-captains paid extra attention to them, then, that was just coincidence. Or future captain training—whatever.

The supersenior grinned. “She’s cute.”

The brunette pouted childishly. “Cuter than me?”

Chloe’s exaggerated gasp earned her an eyeroll from her co-captain. “Never!”

Beca shook her head, elbowing the redhead as her co-captain laughed.

“I’m glad you’re accepting that you’re  _cute_ , Bec. Finally listening to me, huh?”

Beca grunted, the frown on her face exaggerated. “I can accept being a cute badass.”

“Glad you’ve accepted your fate.”

“Nerd.”

“Dork.”

“Hey aca-lezzies! Are you gonna start makin’ out or are we finishing this rehearsal?”

The co-captains turned to the Australian, noticing the Bellas waiting for their fearless leaders to, well,  _lead_ them.

Beca clapped, faint pink dusting her cheeks, pulling away from the redhead’s warmth. “Alright, nerds, let’s take it from the top!”

Stacie slid into the space the DJ had just left, leaning in to whisper in the redhead’s ear, “But who’ll be at the bottom?”

Chloe bit her lip, a snort escaping her despite the effort. The pair wore identical smirks as they were called to place, the rest of practice filled with sly grins and hidden innuendos. Thankfully, Beca was too busy training Emily to fix up set lists for her to notice the pair’s antics.

By the end of the practice, the two were red-faced from all the inside jokes and the rest of the Bellas had given up trying to figure out what the two were on.

“That’s it. Practice is over, everyone go,” the more sane co-captain waved off the group, starting to pack up the things as Chloe leaned on the taller brunette for support, laughter still racking both their bodies.

“O-Okay,” Stacie gasped, pulling herself together. “I need to get ready for that date. You still coming with, Red?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Chloe giggled, taking in deep breaths to get rid of the chuckles threatening to escape. “I’ll text you?”

“Alright, see you, Red, Mitchell,” Stacie waved goodbye, laughter in control as she packed her things and left the rehearsal space.

As Chloe returned to her senses and helped put away the props and materials, the brunette quirked a brow her way, “You’re going out?”

“Huh?” the redhead replied smartly.

“You have a date?” Beca repeated, stilling from packing up her laptop and equipment.

The redhead shrugged, packing the last prop into its box, “Oh, well, Stacie invited me to double date with her tonight but, I don’t know, not really feeling it.”

The DJ nodded, eyes falling back to her things as she finished packing up. The co-captains finished cleaning up the rehearsal space quietly, both girls’ thoughts far yet not as far as they seemed.

Locking up the auditorium, Beca stuffed her hands in her pockets as Chloe led the way back to the Bella house. As the white wooden house came into view, the brunette nudged the redhead gently. Deep blue eyes turned to icy blue questioningly.

“If you don’t want to third—er, fourth-wheel with Stacie, we could, you know, hang out.”

A teasing smirk lit up the redhead’s face as her heart started to race. “Beca Mitchell, are you asking me out?”

The brunette couldn’t hide the blush that bloomed, cold blue eyes falling to the floor as the DJ shrugged, mumbling, “No?”

“You don’t sound too sure there, Bec.”

The pair stopped on the front porch. “Depends, I guess.”

“On?”

“Whether you’ll say yes.”

The redhead stilled, eyes widening and mouth dropping as her heart stopped then stuttered. Her breath hitched as ocean blue searched steel.

Her voice was soft, unsure, “What?”

The brunette shuffled, tapped out some imaginary beat to calm her nerves. “Um, I guess, I mean, you want to go out?”

“On a date,” it was a statement. Not a question.

“Yeah, on a… date.”

“You and me?”

“Me and you. Date. Yeah.”

“What?”

The redhead’s lost gaze brought out a chuckle from the brunette, the DJ’s gaze softening as she took the supersenior’s hand in hers.

“Chloe Beale, will you go out on a date with me?”

The redhead let the words wash over her, a smile growing impossibly wide as the girl felt her eyes start to sting.

“Oh my god are you  _crying_?”

Chloe laughed, nodding as the tears started to fall. “Sorry, sorry! I just, shit, sorry. I’ve just really wanted this for a while.”

A stupid smile lit up the brunette’s face in reply, a callous thumb wiping away the redhead’s tears. “So I’m guessing that’s a yes.”

The strangled laugh was all the brunette got in reply before salty, soft lips met her own. The kiss was slow and soft and sure and full of so much  _more_. The pair would’ve gone on forever if not for the need for oxygen and the audience that had gathered by the windows.

“Get it on, pitches!” Amy whistled as the two finally separated, arms wrapped securely around each other.

“Called it!” Stacie grinned, lipstick in one hand as she winked at the redhead.

“Pay up, bitches!” Cynthia Rose could be heard from somewhere in the house as some other Bellas groaned and grumbled.

Chloe laughed as she pulled Beca close, face nuzzling into the shorter girl’s neck.

“So, where do you want to go?”

“Weren’t you the one to ask me out, Mitchell? What happened to dating etiquette?”

“Alright, Beale. Get ready to experience the best date  _ever_.”

* * *

 

 “No, Em.”

“It’s perfect, Emily, don’t listen to the grump.”

“I’m your girlfriend!”

“And I love you, but Emily can wear what she wants. She’s eighteen, Bec, she knows how to dress herself for a date.”

“Thanks, Chloe!” the freshman grinned, bounding up the stairs to finish preparing for her date while the couple stayed on the couch, Beca still frowning as Chloe tried to ease her girlfriend out of her mood.

The redhead poked her cheek. “Come on, Bec, it’s just Benji.”

The brunette grumbled, swatting away her hand. “He’s a Treble.”

“ _You_ dated a Treble.”

“And look where that got me?”

“Invited to your ex’s wedding and bringing the hottest girl as your date?”

“How  _humble_ of you to notice, Beale.”

“Come  _on_ , Beca, you can’t still be upset with Jesse for that senior Treble prank. It was funny!”

“Not when  _I’m_ involved! The little shit deserves more than Amy and Stacie’s creative wording spray painted over their stuff.”

“I still can’t believe you managed to do that without me knowing.”

“I’m just  _full_ of surprises, Beale.”

The confident smirk and breathy purr left a shiver down the brunette’s spine. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“No sex on the couch!” Amy shouted as she passed by the living room, arms full with a box of her things.

A bright blush erupted on the DJ’s face as Chloe laughed in reply, leaning away as she stood from the couch. She kissed her girlfriend’s cheek before sauntering up the stairs to her own room to finish packing.

The year had flown by faster than anyone could have imagined. Chloe had finally decided to graduate, the Bellas had kept their championship streak in the ICCAs, Emily and Alexis had been given the co-captain title, the senior Bellas were preparing to graduate, the new Bellas were all assigned rooms as the graduating Bellas were packing up and slowly moving out, and Chloe had found a teaching job at a private school a couple blocks away from Residual Heat, who had offered Beca a full-time job soon after they won finals.

If that wasn’t enough to make Chloe’s year, she was also moving in with her girlfriend. They’d found an apartment in the city just a couple blocks away from both their work places and had been slowly but steadily moving their things in with the help of the other Bellas.

Her girlfriend’s voice echoed in her thoughts, warm and happy when she’d breathed, the first time they’d entered the apartment, “We’re home.”

She hadn’t noticed it at first—that her heart was falling for a little DJ faster than her mind could process. She hadn’t noticed it, but now she could fully acknowledge that she was completely, irrevocably in love with Beca Mitchell.


End file.
